And the Earth Shall Give Up Its Dead by Kristin Lennox

I rec’onised Reggie straightaway. We buried that rabbit last summer, but here he was, jus’ fur and bones, set on the front porch.

The pets kept comin’—soon they’s five dead barn cats beside Reggie, lookin’ mean an’ growlin’ in their throats, follered by that raccoon Pa shot, half its head still missin'.

The dirt by the shed exploded as Hank dug hisself up. That dog was mean even when alive.

Pa spoke low. “Reach me that rifle, boy.”

A’fore I could, a long screech echoed ’cross the moonlit holler, settin’ my bones rattlin’.

Ayuh. Reckon that’ll be Granny May.